Maps and Monsters
by emsana
Summary: The Winchester boys have lead their lives by two rules. Follow the maps, follow the monsters.


Maps and Monsters

Author Note: First SPN fic – hurrah! I don't own them, no, shame really but, c'est la vie.Anyway, enjoy.

He knew he'd blown it the moment he said it. He couldn't tell whether it was just because that was what kids did, what brothers did, teasing each other, or whether he'd just been absent minded for a moment, or whether he just needed to share it with someone so that he could feel a little less alone and a little less afraid.

He'd only told Sammy about Monsters the previous year so as the February evening crept in and Dad didn't Dean did something he'd regret more than anything.

Telling him about the hunt was a bad idea. For the first few weeks after he'd told Sam he'd kept up the 'business' façade, but after a while Sam, who was far too old for his age and far too young for his life, had had enough and demanded to be treated like an adult.

He'd been complaining, whining, asking hundreds of question: where? when? how? and the most recent, why? Eventually, the pressure of being thirteen and trapped in a grotty motel room with nothing to eat but cereal and no-one to talk to but Little Mr 20 Questions kicked in; he snapped.

And now Sammy knew everything: where Dad was, what had happened, and worst of all, what he was hunting. Dean could sense that his little brother was lying awake on the bed next to his. He'd turn over onto the alternate side every other minute; unsure of which was the safest side to be on, too scared to close his eyes, and terrified to keep them open. Dean couldn't sleep either, but not because he was afraid the monsters would get him, but because he was afraid the monsters would get Sam.

A little past one Dean got up, he switched the light on, dragged Sam out of bed. He sat them both down on the sofa and told Sam what he'd do if the monsters came. He loaded his gun and placed it on the table in front of them. He didn't have to say the clumsy words, because they both knew, I will never let anything happen to you. They watched mindless television until a little past two, when Sammy fell asleep against him.

Dean didn't sleep that night, not because Sam was scared that Dean couldn't save him, but because Dean was.

Dean learnt to drive by watching his Dad, he was a natural, and John was glad to be able to move onto a 'more practical car' without having to give up the car he and Mary had together. Sam wasn't such a natural, and a silent but mutual decision was made that they'd wait a bit longer before putting him in front of the wheel. Dean would drive and Sammy, who'd always been a bit too clever for his own good, would navigate.

Under the Impala's passenger seat you'd find a pile of maps: geographical, relief, territorial, military, street, road. Sam could get them anywhere; Dean would put foot to the floor and Sam would put mind to the map. They got themselves everywhere without trouble, and sometimes, even John would stop and ask his youngest son for directions.

Dean was glad that Sam had found something he was able to do, even though it did make Dad resentful sometimes, that he couldn't guide even his own boys. Underneath the geek-boy teasing and mocking Dean was actually concerned. He had always been able to lead his brother, take him by the hand and guide him through their insane world. Now Sam was leading the way, taking point, and sometimes Dean wanted nothing more than to snatch the map from his hands and find his little brother beneath them. If he couldn't even show Sammy the way how could he convince him that it was all going to be alright, that he could save him from anything. He'd come so close to the monsters so many times and he couldn't see the road through the maps.

Sam would lie awake and think about the roads they'd raced down, the cities they'd swept through. He'd close his eyes and still smell the petrol, the metallic taste stinging his tongue. He remember how he'd tell Dean to go left and have him comply in a second. The way that however tough the route was, however hard or dangerous, Dean would drive them down it.

So when he told Dean to let him out of the car and drive the other way and never drive back he really should haven't expected him to stay.

When Jess died, Dean saved Sammy from the monsters. After Jess died Sam spent countless nights pouring over the atlas trying to find the monsters. All Dean could do was let the maps take him, and pray that, in the end, they'd both find their way.


End file.
